A very long engagement

I don't know if you guys have heard of this film. It's about a couple who've been together 42 years, but when they first met they would waited for decades before they could even get married. The picture above perfectly encapsulates the concept of the soulmate. That one person who is always on your mind, who makes you feel warm without them even being there, who will phone you when you're sad or angry and who understands your dreams and ambitions and fully supports you in them.

These women were clearly soulmates Edie says that three days before Thea died they realized 'they were still as completely in love as they had been the day that they met'. I'm so glad that they actually got the chance to make that commitment to eachother, even though Thea died a year later, but sometimes this kind of love transcends death.

I sometimes jolt myself awake and realize that this is what my life will be like. That I will be so totally and completely besotted with someone that i will want to give them my all, who says i'm not already. I will want a family and a house with them, but all this seems so far away. With little impending stresses of everyday life sometimes it's hard to make time for the issues that are at your core, but we must see the bigger picture. I'm swamped with deadlines at the moment, but I'm sticking my head out of a book of criticism for a moment and organised an equal marriage campaign drive next week on my campus, because right now Scotland is on the brink of equal marriage, you can almost taste it everyone's waiting with bated breath for the decision, we're wearing our 'LOVE' rings hoping that the message will etch onto everyone's hearts.

Because sometimes you don't realise how fast life is going until it hits you in the face like a speeding train

And you see that ceremony right infront of you like a mirage with white lace, close your eyes and you can see it, it's touchable, we are on the brink of societies earthquake

So please sign the petition

Already same-sex marriage has been legalised in the Netherlands (2001), Belgium (2003), Spain (2005), Canada (2005), South Africa (2006), Norway (2009), and in the USA the states of Massachusetts (2003) and Connecticut (2008). 


Let's put Blue and White on the map!
http://www.equalmarriage.org.uk/what-we-want

Wrote this in a huge mindsplurge

One of the best ways to write (I feel) is by sensory experience. I recently performed at an open mic night, it actually went really well and I was pleased with my delivery, haven't done it in a while so was a bit shaky to start with! 

I was just going to post some prose I just wrote, opinions welcome, I know the punctuation's not dead on, but this was literally a huge splurge of writing I just did so I will probably look over it and amend it later.

xx

Prisoner

The world spun. In a haze of crying girls and drunken catcalls

I wiped smudged mascara from my eyes. Bent myself over the cattle trough sink, looked blearily into the mecury vortex. The liquid curdled in my stomach, my body felt fuzzy without mass, how did I get myself here, I felt your hand on my arm, my skin pimpled like poison ivy

Sour Vanilla

Coco Butter

I bowed my head away from you, straggled wet hair covering my face. Cowered like a vulnerable animal, my pores sweating dread. You caged me, obstructing my freedom.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   I see the bright lights of a club over my shoulder, the wild gleaming bodies of the night, oh to be there now. I don’t want you to hug me, my skin prickles with an unknown hatred, I wish I had defensive venom, claws to scratch you away.  We have been realigned in this cosmos, in this steel scent of now, with the cold metallic stench of the blue bathroom, we are not compatible. I summon every hazy force in my body, try and repel you with a feeble shove.                                                  You choke me with apologies and excuses. They fly at me like a suffocating musk, still you repeat yourself like a broken cuckoo clock, the inane vowels circling round my head like a furied carousel ride. My head aches with motion sickness, the vomit writhes again in my stomach, I belch.  I don’t want you, I want her, Acaii, Acerola cherries. Beijos bella. Want her to envelop me in soft arms, plant kisses on my confused forehead, sing sweet words, angel, tell me everything is alright, that in this world that I do not quite comprehend right now everything is alright. Rock me back into reality.

You trap me like a hunter, my body is contorted like mutant origami, my arms at a defensive angle my knees bent. I want to go for a piss, just let me go for a piss. Still I face an onslaught of could have been’s and what if’s, this is just the beginning, I know I am in for a long night, I see the battery gauge on my phone slowly run down, the red fading into white, like a rope slipping into oblivion, my last chance of survival. I raise my head and glare defiantly into your eyes, if it’s a fight you’re wanting, then baby…

Adventure

                                                        
One of the many Market's at Brick Lane

So ..I hang my head in shame, as I admit that like Rupert Murdoch, I have broken a scared bond between us (although I don't really think anythings sacred about that man, or his goblin side-kick for that matter).

I recently moved down to London to start a new job, a PR internship with a company in Shoreditch (I have been told since that it's the 'hub' of london's PR scene).

Although one side of PR strikes me as glorified tele-sales, I'm really quite enjoying it. It's so refreshing to be learning a new trade and although (as in every job) some people are getting on my wick, everyone seems fairly amicable. We're working on some really exciting projects just now, and I love the electricity in the atmosphere that tells you that you need to get this done, and you need to get it done now..it's great for ones motivation! I've also learnt alot, its very strange that in just one week i've changed alot. I've become a hell of a lot more self-sufficient because in this job you listen to what you're told, you don't ask for recaps, and you diligently remember every method they teach you, it was scary at first but now i'm used to it.

I'm really loving the routine too..a bit too much I feel. I smell the whiff of old age pensioner as I eagerly pay 20p to the vender for my copy of i, then sit engrossed on my tube journey and await the free bowl of promtional cereal that appears at my tube exit three times a week, it's pretty cushty, I don't even have to spend anything on breakfast (which in Landan, trust me, is a very good thing).

Loving Brick Lane too, reggae music from the food halls (and setting myself up for lunch by eating all the samples, seriously that's what I did one day) there's this huge bazaar near me where the air is heady with incense and old powdery scents and hats and trinkets and cabinets are strewn all around in an organised mess. I could walk round that alladdins cave for ever. I love the mix of big buisnesses and tatty little sideshops, all the street art and the amazing begals (that's how they spell it, don't ask me) from Brick Lane's oldest bakery, it's really inspiring and I'm writing alot poetry-wise because of this.

Weekends in London are proving to be awesome, I'm at the end of my first one now. Yesterday there was a metropolitan monsoon and I was without brolly! Met my friend at a mish-mash little pub for lunch (where they played eve cassidy, then bullet for my valentine, brilliant) then we went to check out the Chapman exhibit at White Cube.

After reading the reviews I wasn't expecting much. The bleeding religious idols were pretty much hideous, I found the christ child and mother with forked tongues espescially horrifying. However the Chapman's have been getting a pretty bad review for this exhibition, all the papers saying "same old same old, tediously boring etc." I found the religious artwork really beautiful, but then it was just copies. The statues annoyed me, although my friend did point out that they were meticulously done (blown glass for the tongues etc). However Dinos Chapmans exhibit mesmerized me, and sparked a really interesting discussion about the work. It's basically kids in tracksuits with animals faces, doesn't sound that impressive, but the way they are placed in the gallery is quite harrowing and there is one inparticular (a small toddler with a ducks bill) that leaves quite an impression on you. I think it's the way that Dinos has moulded their faces, they are contorted and other-worldly, a human hybrid Hitler-youth, scary to think (as my friend pointed out) that if WW2 had been won by Hitlers army, then there may have been similar uniforms etc for children today. Also I thought it was interesting how they used glass animal eyes for the children, it made their gender ambiguous and unerving. The papers hated it, I quite liked it, ys maybe it's been done before but it still makes an imrpession.

In other news I got a weekly travel card, lasts me till sunday so i'm making the most! Going to go to "Boat-ting" tomorrow a jazz/latino poetry night on a boat, if i'm brave enough I may go up and read some stuff, yeek

Oh and I went to Tottenham Court road yesterday and found an awesome comic book shop, found some amazing artists too, I want this picture in my flat next year! Beautiful! Bill Ward you pervy legend!

hope everyone had a good weekend !

                                                      http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M0nOp9234GE

Wish I was at Lovebox this weekend..boo

Over and out xx

Sexymarche etiquette

Hi hi

It's been really sunny in Dundee of late. Sunny enough to go jogging (whilst not getting caught in torrential hail - has happened before) sunny enough for people not to care about your outfit and give you dissaproving looks as you schlomp in the street donning a sonic youth tee and jogging pants. And, sunny enough to take a nice trip to the erotic emporium aka Dundee's creepy sex shop.

This shop amuses me in man different ways. It's like a cartoon sex shop, or how I imagine a sleazy backstreet shop in Amsterdam to look, there it is nestled in between the homely looking "peggy's pantry" and a fragrant flower shop, except it doesn't really 'nestle' more blares out S-E-X with leather corsets and dildos peeking over the semi-tasteful window display. There's a 60 year old man who runs it, with a roving eye who once said he could "order something special in" for me and my girlfriend..whatever that means. It kind of made us sound sexually disabled. This man obviously knows his stuff, he's got a right little Alladins cave in that place everything from gags to freaking fetish feet (modelled on the feet of a porn star - boke).

What amuses me is the beautfiul etiquette that people use in this sleazebucket...the lady in the bank is never this nice to me, although I guess i'm not asking her which buttplug to buy, maybe if I did she'd crack a smile.. the conversations in that shop highly amuse me, its like British aristocracy with dirty words thrown in I love it!

Creepus: "Hello sir how can I help you today?" (said in a put on posh accent)
Customer: "Hello. I'd like to purchase a waterproof strap on"
Creepus: Ah I see, we have a variety of those I can show you a selection if you want.."
Customer: "That would be excellent, thankyou"
Creepus: "Do you know that you can also stick this on the window, it has suction cups"
Customer: Really..fascinating

(some words have been stolen from the L Word)

It's like he was choosing a tie at Harrods, seriously hilarious although he asked questions such as "can I attatch another dildo to this? BEST PLACE for people watching everrrr, and one time I saw an ancient old lady in there and silently squealed with disgusted glee.

God., I've made myself sound like a regular sex shop creep..oh well I needed to tell the blogosphere
Rose out..i've copied that from the icooper column in 'i' newspaper, I have a big man crush on that one, must be his cynicism.

x

No Room at the Inn

So it's that time of year again. Filling out the census, affirming our place in the British society as a tea drinking patriot. Flicking through the census with a cup of coffee I leisurely tick the 'female' gender box *breasts, vagina, female, eggs, ability to have babas all that shabang* 'yes that's right' I muse to myself. It's quite easy for me to identify my gender, i've never had a problem with it, i've always identified as a woman, im sure erm Bob Smith could easily tick the 'male' box while scratching his bits.

Binary boxes, sitting their like filing cabinets, ready to categorise everyone into a neat little blue/pink gender packet. We do it with newborns why not do it with everyone? Great system but it doesn't really work does it? Where's the inter-sex, the pangender, the androgynous boxes, I know i'm listing nearly all of them here, but excuse me for asking 'why don't the trans-community' get a mention in our NATIONAL census!

(taken from the brilliant resource 'understanding gender')

1) Gender Identity

One's innermost concept of self as male or female or both or neither—how individuals perceive themselves and what they call themselves. One’s gender identity can be the same or different than the sex assigned at birth. Individuals are conscious of this between the ages 18 months and 3 years. Most people develop a gender identity that matches their biological sex. For some, however, their gender identity is different from their biological or assigned sex. Some of these individuals choose to socially, hormonally and/or surgically change their sex to more fully match their gender identity.


2) Gender Expression

Refers to the ways in which people externally communicate their gender identity to others through behavior, clothing, haircut, voice, and other forms of presentation. Gender expression also works the other way as people assign gender to others based on their appearance, mannerisms, and other gendered characteristics. Sometimes, transgender people seek to match their physical expression with their gender identity, rather than their birth-assigned sex. Gender expression should not be viewed as an indication of sexual orientation.

3)Gender Fluid

Gender fluidity conveys a wider, more flexible range of gender expression, with interests and behaviors that may even change from day to day. Gender fluid children do not feel confined by restrictive boundaries of stereotypical expectations of girls or boys. In other words, a child may feel they are a girl some days and a boy on others, or possibly feel that neither term describes them accurately.


So there's a man, who likes to dress as a woman, but still identifies as a man

And there's a person who doesn't want to catergorise themselves in the pink and blue city's, and hell why should they? Everyone else will so why should they have to?

And this person has two types of sex organs, or mixed sex organs, and they like to live as a woman, so what to they put?

Methinks we should start using this gender spectrum for our census, no one knows about it AND THEY SHOULD! It's like the Kinsey scale, people need to know the methods to understand eachother better, maybe the trans community would be alot more accepted if society understood their logic!

So I propose

Gender

Gender Expression  Male   Female   Other?

Gender Identity       Male Female Other

Sex  Male Female Male/Female Other

Ok..so that is a bit patchy, and its a pie in the sky method, it'll never happen but i'm sure if it did our country census reserachers would get a little shock about their population

So let's at least have a transgender option on next years census?

Drew a wee cartoon to make this issue less annoying, Rainbow Androgynyne Yay (I know I spelt it wrong)

 The star person's saying "what about me i'm the adrogynyne!"...although it does look very male, its hard to draw something with neutral gender attributes..hmmm

Just my 2 cen - sus mahaha..sigh xx

A Cyclical Dilemma

Sometimes life throws you little snippets of knowledge, that somewhat help you to understand it's crazed confusion. I've just been thrown one of these, allebeit not in the best form.

Pretty much every arguement i've had/been told about by a friend/family member/ priest? Has the same cycle, I could just be acting terribly all - knowing and presumptuous but here goes

1st Stage

The argument starts off from one comment (usually) one, that has pissed someone off. What makes it an argument is that the person who was responsible for this comment, feels they have a reason to respond back to it, in a snappy fashion. This game of bat and ball continues for quite a while.

2nd Stage

Unchartered Terriotry - Having run out of things to say about said topic (i.e why you kept baked beans in a tin in the fridge) the argument goes off on other tangents, related at first, stemming to the unrelated as the tirade goes on.

3rd Stage - 'oops i did it again'

This is possibly the worst stage for one of the participants. This is when everything that is said before is forgotten and this one comment is golden. The personal comment

trivial trivial trivial..oh. went too far. went waaaay too far

and here we find ourselves at the apologetic stage, here one person will be feeling smug as the other apologises copious amounts for their misconduct, I guess this is where I am right now

4th Stage - Forgiveness

The last rolo and maybe some make-up sex?

What i'm hoping is that this argument cycle is fullproof, that I have cracked human nature and that I understand you like the back of my hand. When i'm paniced I logically think about something, however what i'be neglected to think of is that you are a human being, with feelings, and I am an ASS

A triumph for the Trans community!

Picture the scene,smells of bento and noodles wafting around the air folks hurrying around with plates of sushi piled high and me and my uncle, dragging a huge beast of a suticase through the mouth of the anthill that is Kings Cross, talking about trans rights..of all things!

My uncle was telling me about the establishment he works in, as my jaw was dropped further towards the scuffed floor. The things that he was telling me seemed like myths, as if human rights had got hold of a time turner and we were back in the pink triangle ages where everyone spoke polari and gay was a disease.

 Prisoners that are transitioning (Male to female or female to male) will still be put in a institute of the sex that they were born with, i.e a male to female transexual will be put in a male prison, even if they are becoming female. Trans prisoners will get their prescripted hormone's taken off them, basically stopping their transition all together.

Opressive and soul destroying?

SO THIS IS WHY THIS ARTICLE ON PINK NEWS MAKES ME INDESCRIBABLY HAPPY *GRINS*

"New Guidelines for Transgender Prisoners"

New Ministry of Justice guidelines set out rights for transgender prisoners, including what they may wear and how prison staff should treat them.

The rules, which come into force on March 14th, tell prison officers that they must allow trans prisoners to wear make-up, gender appropriate clothing and prostheses, such as bra inserts.
The document says: “An establishment must permit prisoners who consider themselves transsexual and wish to begin gender reassignment to live permanently in their acquired gender.
“Transsexual people, particularly those who have not undergone surgery or extended hormone therapy, may use various items to assist with their presentation in their acquired gender. These can range from sophisticated prostheses to padded bras.
“Regardless of their level of sophistication, access to them can only be restricted in exceptional circumstances.
“These items may only be prohibited when it can be demonstrated that they present a security risk which cannot be reasonably mitigated.”
Transgender people who are undergoing medical treatment to change sex are required to live in the sex they are changing to for a period of time. This is known as real life experience or real life test.
The guidelines say trans prisoners will be permitted to order appropriate clothes at their own expense and staff should address them by their chosen names and titles. Prison officers must currently address inmates as Mr, Miss or Ms.
Trans women who are legally recognised in their new gender must be placed in female prisons unless there are security reasons not to do so, the document says.
Those who have not yet acquired a Gender Recognition Certificate will not automatically be placed in the appropriate prison. Instead, the document says, a meeting will be held to determine where they should be placed.
Rules say: “This is a legal issue rather than an anatomical one, and under no circumstances should a physical search or examination be conducted for this purpose.”
Trans campaigners estimate that there are between 20 and 30 trans individuals in UK prisons at any time.

I actually did a small victory dance when I read this, this morning. It's something i'm campaigning for in our LGBT uni society just now, and we're having an event called "Gender Behind Bars : The facts" where we'll screen the documentary "Cruel and Unusual" about trans-life in prisons, and have a skype chat with the director Janet Baus too!

Now we can watch that documentary knowing that those mistreated human beings will never be mistreated like that again in the UK. The documentary really is very harrowing but I would encourage you to watch it, there are some horrific scenes, but it really illustrates just how bad trans discrimination in prisons can be.

Sure, the new guidelines do not state that trans-prisoners can be given hormones, but at least they can wear what they feel comfortable in and not be mocked for it, this new legislation gives me hope for fighting trans discrimination, who knows, we may even reach a point where trans people feel that a prison is a safespace for them (although obviously you wouldn't encourage them to be in one).

This day marks a huge milestone in human rights, I am so pleased to see people taking notice of this travesty and working against it.

Very happy bunny today, shall we mark it with a wee poem?

Love on the Wing

The bars around me are steel

Long poles that hold me captive

Like voodoo pins

My confidence stabbed like soft raw meat

By their piercing words.

Today

As I pull back the itchy woollen blanket

The sun seems brighter

It seems to skewer the black blinds

Like a hot poker

Leaves a burn triumphant stain

The bars that incase my pink heart

Feel fluid

I feel I could break the binary

That holds me static in a symbols womb.

Mould the symbols like plasticine.

My hands Mix blue with pink,

Sculpt new meanings

New beginnings.

Today I wore lipstick on the wing

They couldn’t shout or jeer

Kept quiet by the golden laws

That some choose not to hear

When god made adam out of rib

He set the binary

And now we’re breaking bars like twigs

And now we’re breaking free

I'll edit this at some point, but for now i'll say goodnight, you beautiful world

xxxxxx